"That's not what the recording showed."
"Because he edited it!" James's voice rises to match mine. "He offered me money on Christmas Day to leave you, and I told him to go to hell. I told you that I told him off! Then he calledthe next day, saying he wanted to apologize and explain himself. Like an idiot, I went."
Everything in me wants to believe him.God, I want to believe him.But the sick feeling in my stomach won't subside. "And the seventy-five thousand? What, that was a casual conversation?"
"He brought it up again. Said the offer still stood. I was trying to get him on record admitting what he'd done, so I played along for a minute." His eyes plead with me to understand. "I never had any intention of taking his money, Caleb. Never."
"Why didn't you tell me?" My voice is demanding to know. "Any of it. The original offer, the meeting, all of it. Why the secrecy?"
He hesitates, which is answer enough. "I didn't want to ruin your relationship with your father."
The laugh sounds hollow to my ears. "That's rich. Since when do you care about my relationship with my father?"
"Since I saw how much it hurts you!" he yells, anger finally flaring in his eyes. "Every time you interact with him, every time you get a call or a text from that house, you come back a little more closed off, a little more bitter. I didn't want to be another reason for that pain."
"So you lied to me. For my own good."
"I didn't lie?—"
"Lying by omission is still lying." Turning away. Can't look at him. Trying to sort through the tangle of emotions threatening to choke me. "What else haven't you told me? About all those connections my father mentioned? Senator Mitchell's staff? Congressman Evans' daughter? All those convenient people you know who could help his campaign if my being gay ever becomes a liability?"
He stares at me, confusion giving way to realization, then indignation. "Are you serious right now? You think I've beennetworking and saw you as what fucking opportunity I couldn’t pass up?"
"I don't know what to think." It's the most honest thing I've said since entering the room. "All I know is you've been keeping things from me."
"Things I was trying to protect you from!" He steps around the desk, closing the distance between us. "Your father tried to bribe me, and when that didn't work, he manipulated you. Can't you see that?"
"I see that you didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth," my anger receding enough for the hurt underneath to show through. "And I have to wonder why."
James goes very still. "What exactly are you asking me, Caleb?"
"Was any of it real?" The question comes out softer than I intended, vulnerable in a way I hate. "Or was I a convenient connection? The rich kid with family in high places who could help open doors?"
The hurt that flashes across his face seems genuine, but then, James has always been good at playing roles. Isn't that how this whole thing started?
"How can you ask me that?" His voice is tight with barely controlled emotion. "After everything?—"
"After what? A few months of what started as a fake relationship? Some good sex and inside jokes?" I'm being cruel now, deliberately pushing him away before he can do the same to me. "What is 'everything,' James? What exactly have we built that's so goddamn precious you think I wouldn't survive knowing my father tried to buy you off?"
"I was trying to protect you!"
"I don't need your protection! I needed your honesty!"
"Fine! You want honesty?" He's shouting now, too; his cheeks are bright red. "Here's honesty: Your father is right. Wedon't belong in each other's worlds. I will never be comfortable in that house, with those people, pretending that their polite disdain doesn't cut to the bone. And you, for all your rebellion, you'll go back to them eventually. You always do."
The words hit precisely, finding the exact insecurity I've tried hardest to bury. No matter how far I run, I'll always be drawn back to the Huntington orbit. My independence is a temporary phase.
"Is that what you think of me?" Quiet. "That this is playing at being my own person?"
Something shifts in his expression, regret maybe, but he doesn't back down. "I think you're fighting a war with your family that no one can win for you. And maybe your father's right about one thing, I'm a complication you don't need."
"So what, you were planning to take his deal after all? Make a clean break for my own good?"
"No! God, Caleb, that's not—" He stops, frustrated. "I turned him down. Explicitly. But maybe we should be asking ourselves some hard questions about what comes next for us. Where is this even going?"
The fact that he's saying exactly what I've been worrying about, asking the questions I've been too scared to bring up myself, makes me even angrier. "Nowhere. Since you've already decided, I'll crawl back to my family eventually."
"That's not what I said!"
